


Like We Were Before We Realized

by Obsessivecompulsivereadr



Series: When We Were Young series [1]
Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Alex POV, Alex is an unreliable narrator for his own life, Angst, M/M, introspective, no actual interaction between Michael and Alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:02:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obsessivecompulsivereadr/pseuds/Obsessivecompulsivereadr
Summary: He’d run into Maria once in town, a few weeks prior, but he’d walked away when she stopped and stared at him.  She wasn’t with Michael at the time, but Alex didn’t have it in him to talk to her about anything.  But it looked like he wasn’t going to get to avoid a conversation today.





	Like We Were Before We Realized

Alex had been avoiding The Wild Pony and the junkyard for months now.  His enlistment period was over, and he’d chosen not to re-up.  He’d taken a remote data analysis job that allowed him to work from home.  He didn’t think he was up for any type of work that required a commute because his leg still wasn’t all that strong, especially not after the stress he put it though at Caulfield.  Alex was completely overqualified for the job, but lives, human or alien, weren’t on the line when he logged on at 5 am every weekday, and it was mostly something to do when he needed to carve out some time to stop thinking.  He would take that mind-numbing repetition over day after day of never knowing which member of his team would make it out alive. 

Weekdays, Alex usually never left the cabin.  Working from home allowed him to accommodate his workout regimen and to do his PT every day, and Ted, the owner of the small grocery in Roswell, brought all his supplies to him.  The older man had offered, with a haunted look on his face, before he quietly mentioned having lost his older brother in a combat situation.  Ted didn’t lavish platitudes on Alex or thank him for his service.  When he’d made his offer, he simply shook Alex’s hand and told him that he remembered him from his younger days.  He didn’t mention Jesse Manes at all, but Alex could see determination in the older man’s eyes… a desire to make up for something that Ted had never been responsible for in the first place. 

So, Alex let him do what he wanted, which was deliver supplies to him twice a month.  It was good to have someone to talk to who wasn’t Kyle.  Ted stayed for a few hours during every visit, and they’d talk about his family.  He would bring a deck of cards, and Alex would let Ted teach him a new card game every few months.  It was nice, and Ted felt like the closest thing Alex would ever get to a grandfather.  Ted invited him to dinner during every visit, but Alex had never taken him up on it.  The man didn’t push, and he respected the unspoken implication that Alex didn’t feel like socializing. 

It’s not that he was _trying_ to isolate himself.  He hadn’t done that since the first few months following his accident.  He traveled to Albuquerque to see specialists and counselors, and he had frequent PSAS referral appointments through the VA.  The VA was a pain to deal with on a regular basis, but he had no choice.  It’s not like he was going to ever get to the point when he would _not_ need assistive devices.  It was his lot in life now, and like everything else that had gone wrong for him throughout his life, he was used to it. 

Whenever he was in the city for an appointment, he would let a couple of old Air Force buddies know, at least ones he knew lived in New Mexico, and they’d meet up to talk and have lunch.  They kept conversation away from combat memories, but they would reminisce about things that happened in training.  Both had seen and done things that would likely have them in therapy in a few years, but they were okay for the moment.  And they’d both promised to let him know if they ever weren’t.  It was the least they could do for each other.   

Alex even hooked up sometimes, though a part of him would probably always feel guilty for doing that, whenever he acknowledged to himself that he was still in love with Michael.  He’d fucked up his chance with Michael, and he would have to make peace with that. 

While 18-year-old Alex’s initial decision to enlist had been, in part, to protect Michael from Jesse Manes, his follow-up decisions were because Alex didn’t know how to have, _or keep_ , anything good in his life.  It’s not like he’d had much of a role model for that.  Alex had pushed Michael away time after time because he was scared.  Too scared to try and work on his issues.  Alex still worried that almost three decades of letting Jesse Manes get into his head had permanently changed him.

Made him into something just like his father.  Just like his older brothers. 

Enlisting was supposed to have protected him from his father and kept Michael from being inside Jesse’s crosshairs, but sometimes Alex felt like all it had done was destroy him on both the inside and the outside.  It was fucked up that a part of Alex still craved his father’s approval, despite every broken bone and every bruise still imprinted on his skin. 

And deep down inside, Alex was perpetually 17-years-old, terrified that his father would hurt Michael again, for the crime of thinking Alex was worth his time and attention.  Worth his love. 

Jesse Manes had never believed that Alex deserved to be _loved_ , and that fact would never stop fucking with Alex’s head. 

Most of the time he didn’t even know how to say it, wouldn’t even know how to explain it to someone else.  How would he talk about it with a therapist?  How would he say that Jesse Manes had hated everything about Alex and used his fists to prove it.  Often enough to firmly get the message across.  How would he say that his dad hated him so much that he would take away, would _hurt,_ the one person who had ever made Alex feel loved?  

Alex had always wondered if his mother would have agreed, but he would likely never know. 

Whether she’d loved him.  If she had ever felt that Alex was _worth_ loving.  

So yeah, Alex hooked up, and it was easy.  Sometimes.  But it was only easy when he kept it to situations where his emotions couldn’t be compromised.  Quick and dirty hand-jobs or blow-jobs in club bathrooms on the trips to Albuquerque. 

Times when he could justify not taking off his clothes. 

Not letting anyone see his leg.  Not letting anyone in. 

He always turned down invites back to their places, and he always avoided men with curly hair and stubble.  He was never going to get over Michael if he hooked up with men that reminded Alex of him.  That idea was just too masochistic even for Alex.  Kyle had suggested he try actual dating, and he’d recommended a few apps, but Alex wasn’t ready for that.  

He wasn’t ready for anything that forced his heart open just for it to be flayed raw again.

But he socialized.  He wasn’t actively avoiding it. 

Liz visited the cabin sometimes, but she never stayed long.  They sometimes met for lunch when she wasn’t holed up with Max.  He’d been resurrected a few weeks after the incident with Rosa, and she still felt vulnerable about losing him.  He couldn’t blame her for wanting to shelter the love of her life from the world.  He knew that feeling well. 

She would come to the cabin with questions, claiming to want his perspective on something alien related, but he could see from a mile away that the questions were just a ruse to get him talking.  She was smarter than most people he’d ever met.  But he appreciated the attempt. 

It had hurt, back in the beginning, when she admitted to him that she had encouraged Maria to try a relationship with Michael.  But it’s not like Alex could blame her.  Liz had never known how involved Alex had been with Michael.  She had some idea now though, because every time she unintentionally mentioned one or the other, she would immediately change the subject with a look of discomfort. 

Sometimes Max came along on her visits, and that was just more awkwardness than Alex ever wanted to deal with in his lifetime.  Max went out of his way to avoid mentioning Michael, which of course meant that Michael would be the only thing either of them were thinking about during the entire visit.  He’d rather meet up with Liz on neutral ground than to put himself through that.

Kyle was a frequent visitor to his cabin, but Kyle was also a pain in the ass on most days.  He was going to be there for Alex whether he liked it or not.  Kyle’s main concern was Alex’s PTSD, so he checked in more often than Alex really needed.  Kyle asked the annoying questions, like whether he’d taken his meds and if he’d done his PT that morning.  Half the time Kyle visited he was performing as Dr. Valenti, and the other half of the time he was the same dumbass Kyle that he used to be, back before peer pressure and homophobia had divided them. 

In a drunken moment, Kyle had confessed that he was afraid for Alex… that he’d withdraw so far into himself that he would never get back out again. 

Alex was afraid of that sometimes, too.  But Alex had never known a time when he wasn’t afraid of something.  His father.  Never seeing his mother again.  Being a disappointment to everyone.  Dying alone in a desert in Fallujah.  Becoming another Jesse Manes. 

 _Losing Michael_. 

Some of those things he had been right to be afraid of… because they’d happened.

But Alex dealt with fear of other things the way he’d dealt with the fear of his father.  He forced himself to get back up.  He forced himself to move.  He forced himself to fight because he was not going to let Jesse Manes win.  And if Alex could survive his father, then he figured he could survive almost anything. 

He let Kyle think that his own persistence was what motivated Alex because it kept Kyle from realizing that fear was Alex’s biggest motivation. 

Fear made Alex clever. 

Fear had allowed a young Alex Manes to find ways to avoid his father’s wrath.  Fear got him to enlist.  Fear of Jesse Manes and his threats to hurt Michael if Alex didn’t toe the line.  Fear of returning home and facing another round with his father’s fists.  Fear of never getting away. 

In combat, fear forced Alex to come up with outside-the-box solutions that kept him alive for yet another day. 

Fear kept him alive.  It hadn’t kept him _intact_ , but it kept him alive.

Alex was also big enough to admit to himself that fear kept him away from Maria and Michael.  He knew he screwed up, _was screwed up_ , and he knew he had probably lost Michael forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to seek out places where they would be. 

He wanted more than anything for Michael to be happy, because Alex couldn’t think of anyone in his life who deserved happiness more than Michael Guerin.  He’d been through so much in his childhood and through so much shit that Alex himself was responsible for, and yet he was still putting up with Roswell and the traumatic hold the town seemed to have on its residents.  Michael had been through abusive foster homes and having his hand shattered, and he’d come out of both situations still a good man.  He’d given up a scholarship that Alex had been sure he would take, and Alex still didn’t know why but he would bet it had to do with Michael’s need to be there for Isobel and Max. 

So yeah, Michael deserved to be happy, but Alex couldn’t stomach the idea of seeing it happen with someone else.  He couldn’t blame Michael for wanting something different.  For wanting someone who didn’t remind him of his mother’s death every time he opened his eyes. 

For wanting something that didn’t hurt as much as being with Alex did. 

He wanted to be angry about it, because of how it had happened.  For Alex being left waiting only to find out days later that Michael had gone to Maria for comfort.  

But the pain won out. 

The pain always won out. 

 

 

Alex heard a car pull into his driveway and relied on his crutch to get him to the door.  He’d been working out to distract himself and had put his leg through too much to solely rely on the prosthetic.  He held open the door and watched as Maria got out.  He should have expected this to happen at some point.

He’d run into Maria once in town, a few weeks prior, but he’d walked away when she stopped and stared at him.  She wasn’t with Michael at the time, but Alex didn’t have it in him to talk to her about anything.  But it looked like he wasn’t going to get to avoid a conversation today.

Maria approached almost cautiously, with a quietly hopeful look on her face. 

“Maria,” Alex nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“Can we talk, Alex?” 

Alex moved out of the doorway and gestured for her to come inside.  He needed to sit and, while he probably should be a better host, he was tired.  Tired not just from the exercise but also from feeling everything down to his bones and never having anything to show for it. 

He sat on the leather couch and motioned for her to sit.  “How’s Mimi?”

“Fine.  Asking about you,” Maria crossed her legs as she sat. 

“Next time you see her tell her I’ll be over this weekend.” 

Maria nodded.  “She’d like that.” 

Alex watched her and waited. 

“Alex,” Maria said softly, “I need to know if we can get past this.” 

Alex wasn’t surprised that she went straight to the core of the problem.  She had always been like that.  She was beautiful and brave, and he’d always admired Maria Deluca for her innate ability to see past the bullshit to the real issue.  Maybe it was because of her special abilities, or maybe it was just because she was Maria Deluca and not afraid of anything. 

“I don’t know, Maria,” he answered as honestly as he could in the moment.

He watched as she considered her words, as if she were editing herself before she spoke. 

“I care about him, too,” Maria stated, a defensive look crossing her face.

“Good,” Alex answered.  “He needs people to care about him.”

Alex meant that down to his core.  Michael needed to not be so lonely anymore, because he’d experienced too much of that in his life.  From being the one left behind when Isobel and Max got adopted to being the one left behind when Alex went overseas. 

Michael liked to pretend he wasn’t lonely, but Alex could see it every time they looked at each other, and it hurt to know that he’d caused part of Michael’s pain.

“What do you want me to say, Alex?” Maria asked.

“I don’t _want_ you to say anything,” Alex replied.  “What is it you came here for?  I’m not going to argue with you, and I’m not going to fight you for him because Michael isn’t a prize.  He’s chosen, and there isn’t much I can do about that.” 

This was the reason he’d avoided this confrontation.  He’d known it would lead to this very conversation, and he _just_ finished putting himself back together again.  He couldn’t go through it again.  Not and stay sane.  He couldn’t rehash Michael’s decision over and over again.

“I want us to be able to get past this.  To be friends again.  I don’t know how to make that happen.” 

“Maybe there isn’t anything you _can_ do to make that happen,” Alex replied.

Maria’s eyes filled with tears, “I have a right to be happy, Alex.” 

Alex closed his eyes and sighed.  “Yeah, you do.  I’ve always wanted you to be happy.  But while you have a right to be happy with Michael, you don’t have a right _to me_ , too.  That’s not how this is going to work.”

Maria looked as if she was about to respond but then closed her mouth.  She may have been one of his best friends once upon a time, and she might be again sometime in the future.  But right now, it caused him too much pain.  He couldn’t stand on the sidelines and cheer for them when their relationship came at the expense of him losing of the love of his life.

She had what he’d always wanted but couldn’t have now, and he’d have to live with that.

“You should take whatever happiness you can find.  I thought I had more time to get past my issues, so that I had a chance to be happy, too.  But it turns out I was wrong.”

“You can still be happy, Alex.” 

Alex huffed in amusement.  “Easy for you to say.” 

Maria fidgeted and uncrossed her legs, “I’m sorry.”

Alex looked at her.  “No, you’re not, and I don’t mean that in a negative way.  What you’re sorry for is that you lost me.  You’re not sorry for being with Michael.” 

“Alex,” Maria said softly, her voice filled with pain.

“You get to have Michael in your life, but you can’t have me, too.  It’s that simple.  I _cannot_ and _will not_ do that to myself.  Maybe it’s selfish, but it’s been a long time since I allowed myself to be selfish.” 

If he’d been more selfish, he’d have fought harder for Michael.  He would have what he’d always dreamed of, a life with the man he never wanted to stop kissing.

Maria stood and walked to the door, “I guess I should go then.”

“I'll see you out," Alex grabbed his crutch and stood.

Maria opened the door and took one step out.

“Maria, do you love him?” Alex asked quietly, the streak of masochism piping up to remind him that he hadn’t hurt enough today. 

She didn’t turn around.  “I don’t know.”

“When you figure it out, tell him.  He deserves that.” 

Michael deserved someone who would love him more than anything else in the world, and while that fact was truer for Alex than anyone else he could think of, that didn’t mean anything anymore because Alex didn’t get to have Michael.   

Maria turned around this time, “You love him.” 

“Yeah, I do.  But that doesn’t matter now.” 

“Why not?”

Alex tilted his head back and breathed out slowly before meeting her gaze again… but ignored her question.  “Just… don’t hurt him, okay?  He’s been through enough.”  

He didn’t think he could bear to see Michael hurt again. 

“What about me?”  Maria asked.

“To put it bluntly, you’re not the one I’m worried about.” 

He didn’t know how much Maria might know about Michael’s heritage and the fact that aliens existed, and he sure wasn’t going to fill her in about it.  He had Michael’s safety to think of, and it wasn’t his place.

“You’re never going to forgive us, are you?”

Alex took a few steps toward the door, and his leg reminded him that he wasn't up for any of this.  He was tired. 

He was _really_ tired of everyone expecting him to just deal with whatever hurt he was put through and still come out smiling and standing there to cheer them on.  Even Michael, though Alex had hurt him over and over, had never been honest with him about how he felt.  Alex had always assumed Michael had loved him, and his denial at Caulfield had pierced through Alex, taking him apart, even as he stood there and accused Michael of lying. 

Why had it been so easy for Michael to deny loving him and yet so hard to admit to it? 

That was just another answer Alex would probably never get. 

“Why does it matter?”  Alex sighed.

“Because I love you,” Maria replied, hand on the door.  “You’re one of my best friends.” 

“I _was_.  And I loved you, too.  But let me ask you something.  If it had been Max you had feelings for, would you have done anything about it?”

Maria didn’t answer.  She didn’t have to. 

“Do you know why I enlisted?”

“To get away from your father,” she said matter-of-factly, as if she _knew_ when she really didn’t know anything about the situation at all. 

“No,” Alex snapped.  “To keep my father away from _him_.”

“What?”

“Just go, Maria.  I’m tired, and I really don’t feel like doing this.” He was hurting, both physically and emotionally, and he was drained from the earlier exertion he’d put on his leg.

Maria took another step.

“You _care_ about him.  But I _love_ him.  I’ve been in love with him since I was seventeen, and at one time he loved me,” Alex reminded her. 

Maybe it was petty.  But he’d always been a little petty and mean when he was hurt and tired.  It was part of the reason he could never seem to have a decent conversation with Michael.

Maria turned to look at him before moving towards her car. 

“I love him enough to let him go.”  Alex said simply. 

Maria stopped at his words, but she didn’t turn again.  She seemed to think better of it and continued walking to her car.  He watched her shake her head, and he could see the lift of her shoulders as she took a deep breath. 

She was shaking it off. 

Shaking off whatever discomfort the conversation had caused her.  Shaking off the stress and the sadness.  The sensitivity she had to feelings was something she had trained herself to clear from her mind.  Because if she hadn’t learned how, her abilities would have overwhelmed her a long time ago.  He watched as she started the car.  She met his gaze and breathed deeply again.  Then she shook her head slightly before she pulled away.  Shaking it off.

She was lucky, he thought as he watched her drive off.

Because Alex would never be able to do the same. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sure this is dissatisfying, but I'm trying to get into Alex's head.


End file.
